a surgerical task

[eighttotwelve]

who ; Thane & Motoko with special appearances by SHODAN & not Irikah
what ; Sometime ago, Motoko had made the decision to get Thane new organs to save him from his space lung cancer sickness. She makes good on this decision in the worst way.
where ; Begins in garden zone because I said so.
when ; Wednesday.
warning(s) ; Expect some gore, madness,

Comments

[standaloneshell]

The last time they'd spoken in person, Motoko had ambushed him. That had been easy; then as now, he'd been distracted.

And say one thing about the Marker: it made this even easier. He'd been hallucinating heavily for nearly a week. That was a bad habit, muttering aloud the memories he subsumed himself in, and it had made her job simple. The same things, repeated again and again, and before long she'd picked up the context clues to figure out who he was talking about.

"How do you know?" she simply walked up to him, no deception to this, just patience. She could wait as long as she needed for the right combination of hallucination, plausibility, and memory. Her poker face was unbeatable, "There are more here thought dead, than otherwise."

[eighttotwelve]

"No one else can see you," Thane responds automatically, eyes narrowed.

To his mind, to the visions, it meshes the way Motoko intends. To him, she appears as Irikah. His wife, long dead -- but still fresh in his memories. As is everything.

"Everyone sees a person. Someone they cherish. Dead and gone. You..." His fist tightens. Almost a week of this, and his mind is close to crumbling. In comparison to the others, he's managed well. Very well.

But it's not enough.

"You simply appear to me, siha," he murmurs.

[standaloneshell]

Someone they cherish. That made sense, in a way, if the marker was trying to control and reject the population. He was all but shaking in his determination and in her guise as 'siha,' Motoko deliberately hesitated. She was doing this for a purpose, after all, and no one could react perfectly to being told they were a hallucination. Krios was standing there, still and stiff, wisely determined to deny her existence, so she took three steps, put out her hand, and touched his cheek as a lover would.

"Thane. I'm here," It's soft, that ribbed, red surface under her fingertips, "Believe me, I am alive."

Motoko had not yet had to lie, for which she was obscurely grateful. She was about to submit the man in front of her to surgical improvement without his knowledge or consent, but it looked like there was still some part of her that was a little sorry for lying to him. Physical wounds could be healed, but he would remember her duplicity.

[eighttotwelve]

His eyes widen slightly. No, his memory wants to deny this, because logically it would be impossible--

But only just as impossible as multiple Commander Shepards. People of different possibilities. Timelines. Why could Irikah not be here, too?

It's the Marker. It had to be. Everyone was seeing things. He knew better--

Kalahira, she feels real.

"Siha," he whispers, reaching up and taking her hand. Rarely, does his voice tremble. It does now. "...I am sorry. For having denied you these past several days. I was blinded. I did not wish to become like the others."

Garrus, Kasumi, or Zaeed. Some worse than others.

"And I am sorry, for everything."